


Afterglow

by dendriax



Series: things are all fictional in this [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Conversations, Double Entendre, Extended Metaphors, Friends With Benefits, Friendship/Love, Hearts, Hospitalization, Illnesses, M/M, Sharing, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendriax/pseuds/dendriax
Summary: Eichs first met Marns at the rink before he met him in person and they've confabulated even though he's never physically heard Marns' voice.It sounds weirder than it is, considering everything else that's gone on.Or: “The dislocation you experienced earlier was your consciousness temporarily coalescing with Marns' during the time you were unconscious. We have theorized that Marns and I have undergone the process enough times that the phenomenon still takes partial effect whenever sufficiently close proximity is attained regardless of the state of my consciousness.”Or: ‘Trust me, I've tried to get off but there's, like, a finite space I can move within? The whole rink starts to move with me if I try to go further beyond it.’Or: Just lots of forking conversations.Or: Hanny





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> Again, if you are or personally know the people mentioned in this, please click the hell away and do not look back. This is purely fictional and nothing is meant to cause anyone any offense.
> 
> This wouldn't make much sense without the other parts, although I think you can read this first and get certain context out of the others later, if you're still interested, that is.
> 
> Warning for excessive swearing and heart problems of the terminal kind and, um, *in small voice* mentions of prosthesis and obscure allusions to cancer and things they entail. I regret everything.

'Have you tried fucking off real hard and fast yet?'

‘Trust me, Eichs, I have, but there's, like, a finite space I can move within? The whole rink starts to move with me if I try to go further beyond it.’

'I'll fucking check you through the fucking boards if that's what the fuck it takes.'

~

["Fuck, there's some freaky Canadian shit here so fucked-up you wouldn't be able to wrap your fucking headcase around it."]

[“Fuck to you, too. What freaky fucked-up shit? What're you doing in fucking Canada anyway?”]

["I got no fucking control over anything. They said my chances are better here or whatever. Shit, I..."]

[“What?”]

["I think my brain got fucked? I don't fucking know. I-- Fuck."]

[“That's not fucking news, Eichs, chill the fuck out. What exactly fucking happened?”]

["Okay, shit, so I fucking got here and they took me to an OR and put me under so they could do what-the-fuck-ever. And then next thing I knew, I was standing on skates in full fucking gear holding a fucking stick in this deserted shitty fucking ice rink with all this abandoned fucking equipment and shit. The shitty rink was dim and cold and fucking bleak and I fucking thought I was fucking alone. But then this scrawny fucker skated the fuck up to me out of fucking nowhere and asked me to fucking tell him something very specific to use as fucking evidence later and--"]

[“Wait, back the fuck up. Are you still fucking tripping? There a haunted zamboni also?”]

["Maybe. No. I don't fucking know. How do I fucking sound?"]

[“I-- Yeah, you fucking sound normal. And then what? Who was the fucker?”]

["He said to fucking call him Marns and he's fucking here with me now!"]

[“He's fucking there with you? Is that fucking kind of fucked-up shit the normal fucking kind of shit that happens in hospitals across fucking Canada?”]

["Fuck off. I woke the fuck up and he's been here in the fucking room with me, dreaming the fuck away in the next fucking bed. My fucking roommate who I've never fucking met looks exactly like the fucker I saw in the fucking rink I dreamed up. Shit's fucking freaky!"]

[“... Maybe you woke up stoned out of your fucking mind and saw his fucking face and fell the fuck back to sleep?”]

["... Okay, yeah. That shit's one fucking way to fucking explains it. Wow, I-- I'm fucking grateful for your fucking head."]

[“Anything for the great fucking Eichs. And what fucking happened next?”]

["Shit he said didn't make any fucking sense. He said he'd get Davo to locate me and bring it to me later."]

[“Bring what? For your fucking sake I hope Davo's a fucking person and not...”]

["What? A Canadian fucking robot?"]

[“Oh, fuck. Yeah, that!”]

["Shit, should I wake the fucker up and fucking ask him?"]

“You cannot wake Marns up.”

"What-- The fuck are you?"

[“The fuck's going on?”]

["A new fucker just fucking wheels in and says I can't wake Marns the fuck up."]

“You can't. I'm Davo. Marns said to bring you this.”

["Fucker says he's Davo, and he fucking comes bearing..."] "A cup of fucking whipped cream? The fuck?"

[“Fucking whipped cream? Please fucking tell me Davo's an honest-to-fuck Canadian fucking robot. It'd make my fucking life.”]

“Well, your -quote- spring spice devirginized deconstructed mochaccino with an extra shot of almond cream and sun-baked juniper berry herbal -unquote- made one barista teary-eyed and another swoon a little so I told them to just make this instead.”

"..."

[“Eichs? Are you fucking there? Fucking Eichs? The fuck's Davo the Canadian fucking robot fucking you with?”]

["Fucking chill, I'm fucking here."] "... The fuck'd you--? Was I fucking sleep-talking?"

[“Put me fucking on speaker phone, I'm in fucking need of hearing more than just the shit you're saying.”]

“No, you were not. Like I said, Marns told me.”

[“I can now hear shit Davo's saying. Proceed the fuck on.”]

["Your fucking's welcome."] "Fucking Marns told you? He was fucking awake?"

“No, he-- We-- I'm starting to agree with Marns on how you both have a very precise way to give multiplex substances and incongruous imageries to any subject matter with your fucks and fuckings, Eichs and the mysterious friend whose name Marns and I do not know.”

"..." ["Now I fucking think there's a fucking high chance they are both actual Canadian fucking robots."]

[“Maybe they're conducting some fucking research and specifically want you fucking there to integrate your fucks and fuckings into their fucking systems? Anyway, greetings to you, Davo and Marns. You can trust that you've made the choicest fucking choice for a fucking companion as Eichs fucking is a fucking gift to fucking humanity--”]

["Fuck off."]

[“-- even though he fucking appears to be a raging fuckhead all the fucking time. Now would you suspected Canadian fucking robots mind elaborating on what the fucking whipped cream is for?”]

“I-- Marns-- There's no way for me to say what I'm about to say and sound sane at the same time so just... keep an open mind, literally, because Marns can hear all of us and he can inflict his thoughts on people, a person, me specifically... by means of telepathy, and we're hoping maybe you, too. Right now, Marns is telepathically telling me to spokenly tell the both of you there's no haunted zamboni that he's aware of and it'd make so much fucking sense if I was a Canadian fucking robot delivering fucking whipped cream but sadly that's not the reality we're fucking in and the pretentious bullshit drink I messed up was supposed to prove the legitimacy of the telepathic link between me and him. Eichs, the dislocation you experienced earlier was your consciousness temporarily coalescing with Marns' during the time you were unconscious. We have theorized that Marns and I have undergone the process enough times that the phenomenon still takes partial effect whenever sufficiently close proximity is attained regardless of the state of my consciousness. For more evidence, Marns is now describing to me you manifested in the rink in full fucking gear. Your helmet was--”

["Fuck, they fucking doped me the fuck up and now these Canadian fucking robots are fucking with me."] "Fucking Canada, you ain't seen shit like my bull-fucking-shit yet!"

[“Fucking go, American fucking Eagles!”]

["Fuck you and your back-country fucking Eagles. American fucking Terriers all the fucking way!"]

[“Fuck you and your backward fucking Terriers, too. We'll fucking hammer out where to fuck off to later. Right this very fucking moment, just stay fucking frosty and prep yourself to fuck with the Canadian fucking robot duo.”]

“... I'm not sure what to say but Marns is chevying me to pronounce fucking U.S. eh?”

-

[“Yo, what's up?”]

["It's a fucking hospital. Nothing's up. Stop calling and go get a fucking life."]

[“Nothing?”]

["Fuck you, my dick's a fucking gift to humanity."]

[“I'm fucking aware. Any time you fucking want, I'll make sweet fucking love to you--”]

["Oh, fuck. Don't say shit like that, you fucking creep."]

[“Fine. Fuck you, too, then.”]

["Yeah, fuck you."]

[“Fuck you. Okay, so. Fuck anyone there yet?”]

["It's fucking Canada, I don't think they have any decent fucker here."]

[“That's what the Canadian fucking robots're for. How about Marns? Having a fucking roommate sounds fucking convenient.”]

["Marns is fucking asleep all the fucking time and somnophilia's so far from the list of fucking things I fucking get off to it's not even fucking funny."]

[“Davo still comes fucking cuddle him everyday, right? You're a fucking non-shitty cuddle-buddy, why not joy the fuck in?”]

["I may be stuck in this fucking room but I'm staying the fuck out of their fucking mind-melding shit."]

[“You're fucking alright, though? They're alright?”]

["Yeah. Shit's fucked up but sustainable."]

[“You sure you don't wanna fuck Davo at least? Or I could fucking visit?”]

["Fuck, don't-- I mean, if he fucking wants but I don't think he could fuck me if he tried. Don't fucking come here, it's-- Just don't."]

[“Alright. Fuck him, then. Wait-- You did say something about wheels. What's wrong with--? Can he walk?”]

["He can fucking hop on his leg, singular, and he looks like he'd rather do a fucking handstand and fucking walk off on his fucking mitts than use a fucking wheelchair if he wasn't afraid the floor would swallow all the fucking beanies he wears that he insists on calling fucking toques. Does any of that shit fucking count as walking?"]

[“Fuck, that's... hardcore. He a fucking athlete, too?”]

["Fucking looks like one, I haven't fucking asked. Just deke around, mostly. The fucking PT room's fucking equipped alright, though."]

[“So you've been working the fuck out? Is that fucking safe? And he doesn't wear a prosthesis?”]

["Yes, maybe, and no. The fuck else'd I do? Fucking mingle? Screen your fucking calls? Strength's alright but need to tone down some cardio. If he has one I've never fucking seen it. Maybe it's fucking recent and he can't get one yet."]

-

["Okay so, Davo's fucking okay, I guess."]

[“You guess. You and him haven't fucked?”]

["No, just... Orgasms have been manually traded, fucking efficient and businesslike."]

[“Holy shit, throw in some fucking lube, at least. Maybe get some actual Canadian fucking whipped cream? Wait, wait, Canadian fucking mousse!”]

["... Holy fuck, a Canadian fucking robot wearing Canadian fucking moose gear delivering Canadian fucking mousse."]

-

["..."]

[“Eichs, you fucking there?”]

["Shit, I..."]

[“What? Eichs, what? Fucking talk to me.”]

["The doctors still don't know what's wrong with me."]

[“Nothing's wrong with you. It's your fucking body. Shit, is that-- That's not good?”]

["No. Shit, it means whatever it is, it's gonna be really fucked up."]

[“Fuck, Eichs, I'm going there.”]

["No. Don't-- I..."]

[“Eichs, just... I know I can't make whatever it is go away but--”]

["No, it-- There's still a chance it could be something with an easy fix. You shouldn't-- It's fucking frustrating but I'm alright. And the fucking cuddling duo are alright. They're not a waste of my fucking time."]

[“If you say so. Shit, they must be fucking saints. Maybe you should get them something to show your fucking appreciation? Maybe I'll get them something, too. Does fucking Canada have stripper-gram or some shit?”]

["You can check, maybe they're moose-themed, I don't fucking know. And, fuck, I've been meditating on getting Davo a fucking prosthesis? Shit, that doesn't sound right. A fucking prosthetic leg?"]

[“You can just leave the fucking out. It couldn't hurt to throw in some fucking toys, too, though. I'm guessing he hasn't asked you for one?”]

["No, I just overheard some shit. And Canadian health care covers shit but it's gonna be shitty. He's short a fucking knee."]

[“You snoopy fucking Terrier-wannabe fucker. Would he flip his shit if you got him a high-end prosthesis? How much does this kind of shit cost? More than their real human counterparts?”]

["Of fucking course. Real human legs aren't worth shit separated because who the hell even buys those? I'll fucking talk to him, I guess. Or I'll fucking get Marns to fucking talk to him, that'd be fucking better for every-fucking-body involved."]

[“Makes sense. I'm glad you've got them. Shit, is that a shitty thing to say? That I'm glad they're there?”]

["Yes, it's a very shitty thing to say. You're a real bane to fucking humanity."]

[“Fuck you.”]

["Fuck you, too."]

-

[“Hey, fuckhead. You jackin' little Eichs off or some shit? Want some superior dick pics to fuckin' drool on?”]

[“The fuck, Eichs? I'll try again. Or you can get your fucking head out of your fucking ass and fucking call me back!”]

[“Eichs, seriously, pick the fuck up or call me back. Fuck.”]

[“I'm calling your house. Hope you're fucking happy.”]

-

"Fuck. For real?"

“You stop responding, and reading my texts, apparently. I took a fucking red-eye for the weekend. Fuck you, by the way.”

"Fuck you, too. Get the fuck out of here."

“Nope. Fucking start talking.”

"Not fucking here."

“So that's Marns?”

"Yeah, fuck. Let's go."

“I haven't even got a good fucking look.”

"I'll fucking email you his mug shot along with his fucking MRIs, fuck. Walk faster."

“And Davo's, too?”

"Fucking alright, fuckhead! Just keep walking!"

“They're not gonna let you walk out just like that.”

"I'll wear your fucking clothes. The staff are all shitheads, they won't suspect a fucking thing."

“Fine, you paranoid fucker. We'll fucking get a hotel room, then. Is there even a decent fucking hotel in Canada?”

...

"The fuck're you doing?"

“You said you'd wear my fucking clothes. Newsflash, I don't wear clothes while fucking.”

"You said to fucking talk, so let's talk."

“It'll just be us yelling. Let's just fuck first so we can have a mellow conversation later. We'll get room service and shit.”

"I-- It'll sure be a fucking way to go."

“Oh, shit, I hadn't-- It's that fucked up?”

"Yeah, I can literally fuck you until my fucking heart gives the fuck out."

“Shit, fuck, you-- Shit. Can I blow you, at least?”

"You're that much desperate for my fucking dick, huh?"

“Fuck, I'd offer to fuck you but I--”

"Trust me, I've fucking thought about it but-- I can't do that to you."

“Shit, Eichs, I don't think I can. I thought-- You said you and Davo...”

"Handies and blowies are encouraged. Just no strenuous fucking. I wouldn't do that to anyone."

“Okay, then... Just-- Let me suck your dick. You can jerk me off after or whatever but just let me...”

"Yeah, alright."

...

“So what's the prognosis?”

"The doctors're saying they can try and fix my heart but it's... Fuck, they won't do it unless there's no other options."

“Can't you get a new one? You're a strapping young American fucking great athlete and lots of other great things. I can't imagine there'd be many better candidates.”

"It's a damn heart, they don't have those lying around like livers and kidneys. And I don't fucking want it. Can you fucking imagine? Some fucker literally giving you their fucking heart?"

“Stop being so fucking dramatic. You wouldn't be the first and you wouldn't be the last.”

"I've looked shit up. So many things can go wrong, so much shitty stuff to take, so many complications-- There are guidelines for how to fucking live. Even the best case scenario's still fucked."

“So you're just gonna, what, fucking give up? Is that fucking it?”

"No, that's not-- I just-- I want it to be on my fucking terms. I want the doctors to try to fix the fucking shitty heart I got. Is that too much to ask?"

“Eichs, just... don't fucking think too much about moral excellence shit. Fucking think of the people who give fucks about you.”

"No one gives a fuck--"

“Because you don't fucking let them. Our fucking friends've been calling. They've been worried you haven't been picking up and they're afraid they're gonna stress you the fuck out. 'Go fuck yourself' would've been your last fucking word to me if I hadn't fucking come here. I give a fuck. Everyone back home fucking gives a fuck about you.”

"Whatever. Sorry. I guess I owe it to everyone. I owe you. Tell them I'm sorry."

“Fuck, don't-- I'll tell them. You don't owe me shit. Just fucking pick up and return our calls, okay?”

"I'm fucking touched. Fine."

“Ha. Well, we can always try fucking untouched, so. Rimming?”

...

"Shit, I can't come like this. You can't even fucking reach my prostate with your tongue."

“... Fine. Fuck me for offering. Just-- Let me fucking ride you, then. I'll take it so nice and slow you're gonna fucking beg. I'll fucking make it last, won't let you fuck up. You're gonna let me take good fucking care of you. I'll show you coming untouched. I wanna fucking see the look on your fucking face when I fucking come all over you from just fucking riding your fucking dick.”

"Fuck. Just fuck me, I'm already fucking prepped. Drag it the fuck out, keep me on the fucking edge, fucking gaze into my fucking eyes, what-the-fuck-ever. Fuck me until I fucking come and then come the fuck all over me if you want. You can fucking ride me later."

“Fuck yeah.”

...

“You look so fucking hot right now covered in our combined come.”

"It's fucking gross, is what it is, and-- Fuck, what're you--?"

“I'm cleaning you. I'm gonna start with your abs and then fucking lick my way through your chest, play with your nipples and rile you up until you're squirming and fucking hard for me again.”

"Fuck, your fucking pillow talk is fucking menacing."

...

“Is it really so bad, taking someone's heart?”

"Shit, don't--"

“Eichs, just... Fucking daydream with me, alright?”

"Fine, do your fucking worst. Lay it the fuck on me."

“Okay, so you get a second heart and you take the meds and do whatever shit needs to be done. It won't be the same but you'll have the sickest scar girls'll be throwing themselves at you left and right and all our fucking friends'll be so fucking jealous, and you'll get to play again. There might be complications but you're a fucking hardcore badass it'll all turn out okay. Seriously, no one else could hope to fucking survive a heart transplant if you couldn't. And you'll have me. I'll be with you every step of the fucking way. I'll fucking camp out in your fucking hospital room and mingle with the Canadian cuddling duo and get us fucking private tutors so we can graduate with our fucking class. I'll even go to fucking BU with you if your fucked-up brain still won't get the absolute awesomeness that is BC by then. We might not make the show or you might end up a fucking symbol but it'll be worthwhile. I fucking swear I'll make it worthwhile. Anyone should be so lucky to have you keep their heart. I wish we could fucking share. I'll take your fucking shitty heart any day if it means you'll fucking take mine.”

"Fuck, I-- Fuck you. We're fucking best friends. I can't let you-- You're a fucking exceptional fucker. You can find other people to fuck you, easy."

“I've been fucking an exceptional fucker. And fuck you, too. What can I say, you've been my first for lots of fucking things. I've imprinted on you and shit.”

"Shit, alright, I-- I'll notify the hospital and stay with you here for the fucking weekend. But then you go the fuck home and you can call me and I'll pick up. I'll even call you to hear you fucking moan about all the dumb shit our fucking friends get into and complain about the Canadian fucking robots here if you want and-- Fuck, I'll take the damn heart if it comes to that and you and I'll fucking talk if shit works out. Are you fucking happy?"

“Fucking ecstatic.”

-

["Fucking Davo just got a new fucking roommate and the fucker tagged along to mingle the fuck out."]

[“So you're fucking jealous?”]

["Fuck no. He's... Fucking Matts got legit fuck-tons of disdain for fucking Canada and just the idea of fucking Marns freaks the fucker the fuck out so..."]

[“Not a waste of fucking time, then.”]

["Yeah, he's fucking alright. We're-- We're alright."]

-

[“Are you fucking kidding me with this?”]

["It's just a fucking note."]

[“It's your fucking will and testament, you fucking psycho.”]

["You'll make it happen, right?"]

[“Of course, Eichs, I'll fucking make it happen. Shit. What brought this on? Are you...?”]

["They're gonna try to fix my heart tomorrow."]

[“I thought you needed a new one.”]

["It's-- They wouldn't do the operation when I told them to a while ago. Things've changed. Now they're saying they have no choice."]

[“Shit, Eichs. I'm booking a flight. What time's your surgery?”]

["Fucking don't."]

[“It's a fucking short flight. I'll fucking be there before you know it.”]

["I don't fucking want you here."]

[“Eichs, fuck, just... stop being so fucking dramatic for fucking once. Next thing you know you're gonna tell me you wanna keep me and the hospital separated and shit.”]

["It won't fucking change anything. I'm gonna run out of fucks to give eventually."]

[“Don't fucking underestimate yourself and your fucking inexhaustible supply of fucks! Don't-- Shit, does anyone else even know? Your family's there, right?”]

["Couldn't stop them. They talk to the doctors."]

[“Have you fucking told any of your friends there?”]

["I don't want them to know. They'll get all weepy and shit."]

[“Fuck, Eichs, they're your fucking friends. God forbid they find out you're leaving them money. How're they gonna fucking feel?”]

["However they fucking want. There's no time for fucking everything. This'll have to do."]

[“Shit, I guess I should fucking thank you for having taken your fucking time to fuck me all these years, then.”]

["Don't fucking front, you know I'm fucking gracious about fucking as fuck. And uh... Thanks, you know, for..."]

[“It's my fucking pleasure. You're welcome to fuck with me anytime, and I mean that in every possible fucking way.”]

["Ha."]

[“I was gonna say call me before you go in but I'm pretty sure you fucking won't...”]

["No, I fucking won't, so..."]

[“I'll fucking see you when you wake up, then.”]

["That's a giant-ass fucking 'if'--"]

[“Fuck, Eichs--”]

["I'm just fucking being real here. I'll fucking resign my fucking life to fucking you if shit works out but I can't-- Someone'll call you either way. But don't fucking wait, just don't..."]

[“So this is... This is where you tell me to have a fucking great rest of my fucking life either way?”]

["And you call me fucking dramatic. Fuck, just keep telling me shit about your shitty day until I tell you to go fuck yourself and fucking hang up. Sound good?"]

[“Shit, fine, you fuckhead. Fuck you.”]

["Fuck you, too."]

...

~

'Why is it always fucking here with you? After fuck knows how long of being stuck in this shitty fucking rink, I thought you'd be fucking sick of it by now.'

‘This is not my fault! It only seems that way to the untrained eye! I don't know how my shit works. Do you fucking know how your shit works?’

'Damn it. Why is it so hard to just keep your shit away from the proverbial fan?'

‘Wow, not a single fuck? Who are you?’

'Maybe I just ran out of fucks.'

‘... Pfft. Fucks fucking comprise, fucking like, a fucking third of your fucking vocabulary at the fucking least. Seriously, you give copious fucks easily and all the fucking damn time and, like, we are aware and grateful for all the fucks you've given us but you don't have to all the time. We all fucking love you and will love you even if you feel like you ran all the fucks out. I'm pretty sure we have enough fucks between all of us to be fucking sustainable, eh?’

'That's the weirdest fucking metaphor ever.'

‘You fucking started it.’

'Did I? Fucking really?'

‘Yep. And I'm sorry I've never had a chance to meet you in person.’

'Fucking not your fault.'

‘I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I'm sad I've never gotten to know you in person and, like, thanks for cuddling with me, too, back when we shared a room. I wouldn't mind staying there if it meant you got to stay, y'know.’

'Again, what-the-fuck-ever. We'll--'

‘Always have this shitty fucking rink, right. I wouldn't mind staying here, either. And it's not even cold anymore, so. Things change, yeah? They keep changing. With Davo and, like, we can talk on the phone now. Maybe one day you won't be stuck with just us. I know you have friends back home. And maybe meanwhile you can call them? Like how you can call me?’

'I'd have to start remembering phone numbers, first.'

‘Right, but-- I mean... Not even the one you used to call?’

'Fuck, no, I-- It wouldn't be the same. You and Matts got each other, you two'll be fucking alright. I can't risk them not moving the fuck on.'

‘I mean, I can imagine, and I know you and Davo have a thing but... I've never gotten to know his name, but I overheard how you talked to him sometimes and I remember how he talked to you on the phone and briefly that time he came to see you. If it were me, I'd wanna hear from you, even if--’

'It's not the same. It makes some fucked-up sense with Davo but with him it's-- Fuck, I just can't. Hanny's fucking different, he's-- He was my fucking best friend...

and he can go fuck himself without me.


End file.
